Chapter 5: Lingyun

When Yan Kuang and the medical officer arrived, the poisoner was already lying motionless on the ground, beyond any response. Liu Liu shrugged at Yan Kuang and let out a sigh.

Officer Zhang examined the body and shook his head: "He has taken poison; he is already dead."

Yan Kuang surveyed the scene. The poisoner had been with the department for years; he had no idea he had been harboring a piece so deeply hidden within his own ranks.

Still, the one who played this game was certainly willing to sacrifice much. But regardless of how intricate the scheme had been, the man was now nothing more than a discarded pawn.

Yan Kuang closed his eyes slightly and said indifferently, "Take him out and give him a proper burial."

Liu Liu shook his head in regret and asked, "Then, Chief... what about this matter? I mean, are we still going to investigate?"

Yan Kuang waved his hand: "No need. Tell the men to disperse. Liu Liu, you go personally and escort Dr. Zhang back."

Liu Liu acknowledged the order and gestured for the medical officer to follow: "Understood. Dr. Zhang, let's go."

"Very well... I hope the Commander takes care of himself." The medical officer, his expression filled with worry and helplessness, bowed and left the prison with Liu Liu.

Yan Kuang turned and returned to his private quarters. Wu Wu, who had been dozing by the table, quickly stood up at the sound of his footsteps.

"Commander, shall I take him back?" Wu Wu asked, pointing to Cheng Ruyi, who lay on the cot.

Yan Kuang looked over. Cheng Ruyi appeared so frail, his breath as thin as a gossamer thread, looking even more delicate and sickly than Xizi herself.

It was hard not to feel a touch of compassion.

"No need. It is late; you should go and get some rest as well." Yan Kuang waved his hand. Seeing this, Wu Wu accepted the order and retreated, tactfully closing the door behind him.

Yan Kuang lifted his robes and sat on the edge of the bed. Cheng Ruyi, who had been delirious, happened to wake up at that moment. Seeing Yan Kuang beside him, he subconsciously shifted further inward.

"Mm... Commander Yan," Cheng Ruyi murmured incoherently.

Yan Kuang looked down at him, and something suddenly came to mind: "Right, I brought you something. I found these when I had your home searched. You kept them under the bed, so I assumed they were important to you."

With that, Yan Kuang pulled a bundle from beneath the bed and spread it out before him. It contained manuscripts and drawings.

"You really did ransack the place..."

Cheng Ruyi was stunned. He stared vacantly at the items in the bundle. He wanted to reach out and flip through them, but he was too weak from the pain, so he simply closed his eyes.

Yan Kuang, however, seemed quite interested in engaging him, continuing, "Naturally, it had to be searched. The house was empty, but there were a few cats in the courtyard. Are they yours?"

"I can barely feed myself, let alone keep animals. I just toss them some scraps now and then..." Cheng Ruyi muttered, half-closing his eyes in a listless, perfunctory manner.

Yan Kuang patted the bundle and feigned seriousness: "I only kept these because I found them suspicious, instead of confiscating them. But if there is anything here you care about, you may take it now as a keepsake."

As he spoke, Yan Kuang began to rustle through the stack of poems and paintings. Cheng Ruyi found the noise irritating; he furrowed his thin brows and stared suspiciously at the "King of Hell" who was busy rummaging through trash in the middle of the night.

"What kind of keepsake could there be..." Cheng Ruyi said lazily, watching him. "I tell you, Commander Yan, there is nothing seditious written on them. Don't bother; just burn them."

Yan Kuang stopped his movements upon hearing this: "I have already read these. Scholar Cheng is a man of exceptional literary talent; the title is well-deserved."

This time, there was no hint of the previous mockery in Yan Kuang’s tone when he called him "Scholar"; it was genuinely serious. Cheng Ruyi could not help but be taken aback.

His thoughts were chaotic, and suddenly, an unbearable memory was stirred.

...

The young Cheng Ruyi, dressed in thin, shabby clothing, knelt in the rain. A wealthy, arrogant young man threw a stack of essays into his face. Cheng Ruyi reached out to pick them up, only to have the other man step heavily on the back of his hand.

It hurt—it hurt so much his heart trembled. Above him, angry insults rained down just as fiercely.

"I told you to ghostwrite a congratulatory speech, and this is the dog-shit you produce! And you have the nerve to ask for payment!"

...

"Cheng Ruyi?"

Yan Kuang’s soft call stopped the rain in his memory and brought Cheng Ruyi back to reality.

Seeing that Cheng Ruyi’s eyes had stopped moving, Yan Kuang feared the poison had flared up again and frowned with concern. Cheng Ruyi, seeing him with a straight face again, was startled.

Realizing the man meant no harm, Cheng Ruyi scoffed at himself: "What exceptional talent... Commander Yan... don't you think my writing is not flowery enough? Not rich, not ornate... not worth anything?"

His voice was soft and muffled, as if there were ten steps and a screen between them.

Yan Kuang paused, seemingly considering the matter seriously before saying, "It is not flowery. But though I am no scholar, I did attend a private school for a few years. Isn't 'flowery' a derogatory term?"

Cheng Ruyi smiled helplessly: "With the name 'Cheng Ruyi' attached to it, it is naturally derogatory..."

Yan Kuang disagreed. He pulled out a poem: "Why must it be ornate? For poetry and prose, beauty of imagery is the highest standard. Having only flowery language is, at best, mediocre. What you have written is quite good."

Was he praising him? Cheng Ruyi could not believe his ears, yet every word rang true and aligned with his own heart. Could it be that he and Yan Kuang were actually kindred spirits in literature?

Cheng Ruyi could not help but sigh: "I never expected... Since you find them good, then just take them all, Commander."

However, Yan Kuang suddenly began to recite the poem in his hand:

"I have always held a soaring ambition, not to be wasted like the river flowing for ten thousand ages..."

"Yan Kuang...!! No!" Cheng Ruyi struggled to sit up and interrupted him.

...It would be better to just burn them!

"No... Commander Yan, Commander, King of Hell... I beg you, don't recite it." Cheng Ruyi clutched his robe and pleaded, tears threatening to spill.

"What is it? Is it not well written?" Yan Kuang did not understand, but he helped Cheng Ruyi lie back down.

Cheng Ruyi did not know how to answer; he simply looked at him with watery, pitiful eyes and shook his head. Seeing this, Yan Kuang turned his face away and whispered: "Fine, fine. If you don't want them, I shall take them away."

With that, Yan Kuang gathered the bundle, threw it under the bed, and said, "Rest. It will be dawn soon."

He kicked off his boots and tossed his outer robe onto a stool—it hung there perfectly, not touching the ground.

Cheng Ruyi, however, could not be so composed. He asked in surprise, "I? Rest... here...?"

Cheng Ruyi realized only then: shouldn't this King of Hell have sent him back to the straw pile long ago? Why keep him here for idle chatter?

Yan Kuang seemed too lazy to explain, merely giving a perfunctory response before waving his hand to extinguish the candle and lying down beside Cheng Ruyi.

Cheng Ruyi’s brows twitched. Unable to help himself, he leaned in and whispered into the man’s ear to test him: "Commander Yan... are you not afraid that I might take advantage of your sleep to kill you and then escape?"

Yan Kuang still ignored him, simply pulling the quilt over Cheng Ruyi and turning his back to him to sleep.

Cheng Ruyi fell silent for a moment before saying, "Commander Yan, I must ask, do you perhaps have any... any peculiar habits?"

...

When no answer came, Cheng Ruyi prepared himself to be thrown out. Who would have thought the man... would still not respond.

Cheng Ruyi let out a long sigh.

When he first met this man, he seemed like a devil from hell, ready to slice him to pieces. But now, he had treated his wounds and saved his life; he had received so many unearned favors from him. Cheng Ruyi could not fathom it no matter how hard he tried.

In any case, it held true—when things are abnormal, there must be a demon at work.

Cheng Ruyi tried to shift his body, but his hand accidentally brushed against the King of Hell beside him.

*This is bad,* Cheng Ruyi thought. *Surely this will wake him up?* But Yan Kuang’s breathing remained steady and deep, undisturbed. He seemed to be truly asleep.

"He sleeps quite soundly..."

He had spent the last few days in a cell, accompanied by mice and insects, with cold walls for a pillow and weeds for a blanket, lulled to sleep by the chilling winds and the smell of rust and blood in the air. Now, weakened by the poison, Cheng Ruyi naturally drifted off to sleep shortly after.

Cheng Ruyi had not dreamt in a long time.

There were too many ghosts seeking his life; it was too troublesome. So, he would simply force himself to stay awake until his vision blurred, severing the path of these "vengeful spirits."

Tonight, for the first time in forever, he entered a dream. But there were no "vengeful spirits" clutching his throat to "cry out their grievances."

He was simply submerged in a lake. Apricot blossoms fell like rain upon the water, rippling in layers before his eyes.

He did not struggle; he just drifted there, for how long, he did not know.

Until a figure appeared above the water’s reflection.

Though he could not see clearly, Cheng Ruyi felt instinctively that the figure was watching him, too.

...Save me.

The thought of survival surged, like a stone thrown into the water, splashing into a thousand ripples. Within the shimmering light, the figure drew closer and closer. Cheng Ruyi reached out, unable to wait.

He was... he was caught.

...

"Are you having a nightmare?"

Yan Kuang gripped Cheng Ruyi’s flailing hand as firmly as one might hold a chicken, his eyes full of confusion.

He did not understand why Cheng Ruyi was talking in his sleep and reaching out, but the morning court session was only an hour away.

After a moment of thought, he decided instantly. He opened the bedside cabinet, took out iron chains and shackles, and cuffed Cheng Ruyi’s wandering hands to the head of the bed.

***

Author's Note:

"Do not let the flowers bloom on another's tree; do not climb the red sun to compete for brightness."

Little Cheng: I wanted to be a good person, too.